


Velocity

by HeavenOnFire



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Sibling Incest, look at my wordcount!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 14:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13719198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenOnFire/pseuds/HeavenOnFire
Summary: The AU-ish sequel to [Momentum]When Darkness came, Thexan will face it alone.





	Velocity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azzy_Darling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azzy_Darling/gifts).



> This is a fic-swap challenge posted by Azzy_Darling on Tumblr. (Thank you so much for the inspiration! XD)  
> Sort of an AU-ish sequel to my story [Momentum].  
> And simply because this story doesn't fit into the canon of the games (since Thexan obviously lives), there are not relevant detail in the story that tie into the games directly.  
> Also, no spoilers for KotFE and KotET. Not really. I did get heavily inspired by the game though. 
> 
> Special Thanks to my friend arashi_ga_mooi_o_furuu! Couldn't have done this without you!

**Velocity**

 

_ The tip of the blade cauterized his wound.  _

_ He felt no pain. He was too surprised to feel any pain.  _

_ His inhuman strength vaporized, his knees grew weak. He fell.  _

_ The arms around his body were strong, the face in his view one he could never not love.  _ __  
_ He whispered his last wish for the dark prince.  _ __  
_ May my love make him strong.  _ __  
_ Thexan closed his eyes and went to sleep in his brother’s arms.  _ __  
  
He snapped his eyes open and drew in a haggard breath. He could still feel the anguish in his soul and the grief in his heart. The skin on his abdomen tingled, drawing his fingers to gingerly caress the flesh there. Tracing the fresh outline of his new scar, Thexan reminded himself that what he just saw was not real. Arcann’s blade came close to take his life, too close. But he didn’t. Thexan lived. Everything that was left from that fateful day in the throne room was only a thin line on his skin where once his flesh had been burned. Soon, it would fade and with it the memory of what was ever merely a possibility. Never the reality. 

He glanced outside his window. It was still dark. The dawn had yet to come. 

Guessing that he still had a few hours of sleep before the duty of a prince would begin, Thexan relaxed and laid back down. He recited the soothing mantra he had picked up during his campaign in the core worlds, hoping that what had brought tranquility to a dying Jedi could help him find rest again. 

_ There is no emotion, there is peace. _ He repeated and turned to his side.  _ There is no emotion, there is peace. _ He turned again, trying a find a comfortable spot in his bed. There was still this edge in his mattress that kept digging into his left arm. He pulled the covers over his body, wrapping himself inside. But his back was still cold, still exposed. He tried to ignore the lack of warmth or weight on the other side of the bed and forcefully pressed his eyes shut.

_ There is no emotion, there is peace.  _

Sleep would not come again. It had been eluding him ever since he woke up in the med-bay with a fresh scar on his body and a taint to the bond he shared with his brother. He had tried to blame his insomnia on the fact he had just returned from war, that his mind was still too on edge, still expecting an ambush or attack whenever there was a sound to startle him. It was not uncommon for soldiers, he had read. Soldiers often needed time to readjust to the peaceful society of their home. He was no exception. 

Only Thexan knew it was a lie. 

He reached over to place an arm on the unoccupied side of his bed. The sheets were clean and unused. There was no crease in them, no warmth or any other sign to indicate that they had been touched recently. They were still tight and immaculate against the mattress. 

Thexan turned away from the sight. 

He was alone. Again. 

After tossing and turning for another hour, Thexan finally gave up on sleep. He took an early breakfast in his own chambers, then sent a text message to his brother to meet him in their study. He was well into his study of the core worlds and lost himself in the  _ History of Dromund Kaas _ when a knight knocked on his door. She entered when he allowed it.

“Prince Thexan,” she said, her voice tense. “Emperor Valkorion demands your presence in the throne room.”

Thexan laid his data-pad down and frowned. Father had not summoned him ever since his little duel with Arcann on the day of their return. He wondered what it could be, if father had finally made a decision about Arcann’s punishment. He had no doubt that Arcann would be punished. His crime was beyond that of a rebellious prince who struck his own brother down. He had dared to defy father, their master and immortal emperor. That Thexan was the one to bare the scar meant little in the grand scheme of things. After all, it was his duty to defend Valkorion. 

He nodded at the knight and walked past her briskly, not bothering to make any conversations. Now that his time leading the eternal fleet was over, those knights were no longer his to command. Whatever friendship or camaraderie he might have inspired during their campaign was gone now, overshadowed by their loyalty to the one and only they truly served. It seems, everything was his father’s, nothing was his. 

When they arrived at the access to the throne room, Thexan took in a deep sigh. The entire way here, he had been preparing himself, sorting through his thoughts and warding himself in confidence. He went through the monologue he had formulated one more time, making sure he knew what to say should the need arise for him to beg mercy on Arcann’s behalf. 

Just when Thexan had thought that he couldn’t be more ready for his father’s verdict, the door to the turbolift slid open behind him again. Thexan gasped under his breath even before Arcann stepped out of the lift. His brother seemed just as surprised as Thexan was, but managed to hide it much better due the mask that still covered over the half of Arcann’s face.

“Brother,” Arcann greeted stiffly, his entire body rigid. An aura of dread surrounded him and within it, Thexan discovered the distinctive tremble of doubt. Once, he had known how to read every line of tension in Arcann’s features, now his brother was as distant as a new star.

He tried to give Arcann an encouraging smile, but managed only a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. He gestured for his brother to step away from their escort and follow him as they walked down the long corridor towards the gate to the throne room. 

“Where were you last night?” Was the first thing Thexan managed to ask and wanted to punch himself immediately for opening with the most accusing question. He watched the exposed brow of Arcann furrowing down and offered a small smile to smooth over the awkwardness. 

“I slept alone.” The modulated voice still sounded foreign and Thexan wondered if he would ever get used to it. 

“Where?” He could accept that Arcann needed his space to come to terms with what happened, but that Arcann had yet to return to their bed was getting less and less easy to bare.

“In my chambers,” Arcann bit back. He didn’t turn to look at Thexan, but only fixated on the door. “So father has finally made a decision about how to punish me.”

He placed a hand on Arcann’s remaining arm. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“You should.” 

The door to the throne room slid open and Thexan let go of his brother. He gave Arcann a last look of reassurance before walking down the long walkway towards their sire and master. On his left, Arcann mirrored his stride. To any outsiders, they were just the two princes of Zakuul, coming to an audience with their emperor. But within them, everything had changed. 

The last time they walked down this path, they were victorious conquerors returning home with trophies taken from their fallen enemies. Last time, Arcann and Thexan were one, believing that nothing and no one could ever separate them. How much could change in such a short time, Thexan mused. It was only a moment of rage, an impulse and an instinct that shattered everything around them. It was only that little moment when Arcann’s blade parted his skin that everything crumbled. 

Thexan shook his head mentally. It was not a smart move to remise about the past. He lifted his chin higher, staring down towards his father in the distance and counted the steps he took until they both knelt. The motion was familiar and centered him to the present. He reminded himself that no matter what happened, he was the prince of Zakuul. Valkorion was not only his father, but also his emperor. As the eldest of three, Thexan viewed it as his responsibility to protect and support his siblings. For one day, the throne would be his and it was with them, he would share his power. 

“Father,” Thexan said, bowing his head. He heard the same address from his brother and was glad that Arcann wasn’t disgruntled enough to refuse their father any respect. So it was only a moment of blind anger and Arcann was not holding a grudge.

Valkorion did not bid them to stand. Thexan could feel his stare on them and breathed in deeply to not buckle under the weight. Patience was his best strategy right now. He would wait for his father to begin and counter whatever attack that should come. He had his arguments ready. His contingencies were in place. Whatever Valkorion decided would happen to Arcann, Thexan would not be caught off guard. 

After an agonizing long time, Valkorion rose from his throne. Waving with one hand, the force around him shifted, giving both of them the permission to stand in the Emperor’s presence. The tension that had grasped him earlier drained out of him slightly. He exchanged a semi-confused look with Arcann, both of them wondering what else their father would do. 

Valkorion turned from them, a mirror image of what had prompted Arcann to snap weeks earlier. This time, Arcann didn’t so much as register their father’s posture, but only sank deeper into his own contemplation. 

“You have both come before me, expecting to be punished for Arcann’s childish tantrum,” Valkorion’s deep voice filled the spire and Thexan drew his attention away from his brother. “But that is not my intention. The past is a lesson to open your eyes and expand your mind. Yet you cling onto it. Blinded by your own desire, you fail to see how it tears you down.”

Thexan narrowed his eyes at his father’s back. He wasn’t entirely sure whom Valkorion was addressing, but still felt the shame of failure colouring his cheeks. He pushed his embarrassing  immanutre feelings down and hardened his resolve. 

“The vision of the core worlds in flames was a narrow one,” Valkorion continued. “I allowed it to test your potential. You failed me. The Jedi and the Sith are far from broken. The strength of both the Republic and the Sith Empire are not to be underestimated. In its wake, I have made plans.”

Thexan felt the hairs on his neck stand up. Whenever his father said that, they would suffer. 

The immortal Emperor turned towards them, his hands still behind his back. “Arcann, for your renewed defiance, there is only one repercussion. You must obey me in all things, or be executed as a traitor to Zakuul.”

Thexan let out a mental breath. It could be worse. 

“Tomorrow, my honored guest will arrive. As the newest member of the Dark Council, Darth Nox is a valuable asset to me.  Her ambition has served her well in the past, now it will serve me.”

Something wasn’t right. It was unlikely that father summoned them here just to inform them of an guest to their court. Before Thexan had time to ponder about their father’s true intention, Valkorion continued. 

“Arcann, you will be her host while Darth Nox remains here. Conduct yourself the prince you are. No mistake will be tolerated. It is my wish that her time here be memorable.”

This time, Thexan almost snickered. Of all the people father could chose from, Arcann was probably the one most unsuited to be a host. Perhaps he could lighten his brother’s load by volunteering. How hard could it be to entertain a lone Sith? 

Thexan opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately silence when Valkorion lifted one hand. 

“When Darth Nox returns to the Sith Empire, she will aim to become its empress. By my grace, she will have what she desires. But she will not go alone. Arcann, you will accompany her to the planet you failed to conquer and take it in my name. When Darth Nox rules as the Empress of the Sith, you will be at her side.”

Thexan closed his eyes and clenched his fist. It was as he thought, Arcann was being banished. Only in Thexan’s calculation, he had never thought that father would send Arcann off to rule an entirely different world. 

All the preparations he had spent countless predawn hours to arrange were for naught. All the shuttles at different locations, all the servants divided into groups, all the funds stashed away were useless now. His humble efforts to make Arcann’s exile more comfortable seemed so puny right now. How stupid of him to think that Valkorion would ever let Arcann remain on Zakuul when he had dared strike at their Emperor. 

“Father,” he managed to say and knelt down next to his brother. Again, Valkorion lifted one hand to muzzle him. 

“Your attachment to him is a burden to your potential,” he lectured and Thexan bit down so hard his teeth started to hurt. “To realize who your are, you must be allowed to grow without needless weight.”

“Arcann is not….” 

A sharp sting in the force stole his breath away. Though Arcann didn’t move, Thexan could imagine his expression. It was one he often wore himself. It said _ “Brother, shut up.” _

“When Arcann departs with Darth Nox, you will take up the mantle of my heir. You will resume your post as the Commander of the Eternal Fleet and serve until I deem you ready for this throne.” Valkorion slowly descended from his high position and strolled towards them. “His place is no longer at your side, Thexan. His duty to Zakuul demands that he marries Darth Nox. He will be an Emperor. And so will you.”

Thexan’s mouth hang open. He blinked in surprise, his brain not knowing which piece of information he should process first. This was the first time their father has ever voiced any kind of wish for him to take over the throne. Though everyone in their empire, including Thexan had always seen him as the natural successor, hearing it from Valkorion made it more real than he had anticipated. Then there was Arcann, an Emperor of his own, in an empire of his own? 

And then, Thexan knew which information was the only one he should pay any mind to. 

“You want Arcann to court this Sith?” He blurted out, not caring how undignified he was right now, repeating everything that was just said. “Father, we are meant to topple the Core Worlds, not entertain them. A marriage to any of our enemies will not be fruitful. It is an insult to our great society.”

Valkorion chuckled darkly, as if laughing at a child. He stopped and pinned Thexan down with his glare until the prince again bowed his head. “My decision is final, Thexan. Your destiny is here, your brother’s somewhere else. It is time you accept this truth.” Turning to Arcann, Valkorion said contemptuously, “Do not disappoint me.”

Thexan bit down on his lip. Even if father had spoken, Arcann would never agree to it. Until today, Thexan had never been more thankful for Arcann’s defiant nature. He turned towards his brother, waiting to see that spark that always ignite in his eyes whenever he let himself be led by his passion. But instead of anger, he sensed resignation in Arcann. Instead of rebellion, he saw obedience. Arcann did not look at him, but kept his gaze trained on their father. Thexan could almost not believe that this was the same man who had sought to decapitate their emperor the last time he was here. 

As if in slow motion, Thexan watched Arcann kneel before Valkorion. He saw the submission in the way Arcann bowed his head and heard the conformity in his voice. “Yes, father.” Arcann vowed and Thexan cringed. 

There was a knife in his heart and someone was twisting the blade. He vision blurred as he kept staring at the back of his brother’s head. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing here. This was some bizzare dream, some twisted nightmare born out of the depth of his heart. This was his greatest fear given flesh, his one and only weakness. 

When realization dawned, confusion turned into anger. His sense of duty turned to resentment  and his calm smoldered into the cold fury so many Jedi and Sith had learned to fear. His eyes snapped back towards the Emperor who stood over them and a rage gripped his being. It made his muscles tighten and his limbs tremble. It made him understand what had drove Arcann’s blade mere weeks ago. 

“Will that be all,  _ father _ ?” Thexan hissed, his voice sounding like stone grinding against stone. 

With a dismissive wave, Valkorion turned from them. He took small, slow steps back to his throne and sat down as if nothing interesting had happened. Arcann and Thexan rose simultaneously, turned and marched out of the throne room, their boots making heavy thuds on the floor. Until the door closed behind them, Thexan felt his father’s attention on him. For first time, he hated it. 

Before this moment, Thexan’s relationship with his father was one of lord and servant. He had always respected his father for what he had achieved. He had silently accepted the omnipresent power his father represented on Zakuul and sometimes even admired the mysterious way he controlled the Eternal Fleet. Though many things father decided had nagged on Thexan’s patience, he had always tried to understand the mind of a man who was immortal. 

“Thexan,” Arcann started as soon as they stepped out of the throne room. 

“Not here,” he growled. What he had to say were only meant for Arcann’s ears, not the 20 knights who stood watch here night and day. Though he trusted them not to gossip, he bristled at the idea of letting them witness what was in his heart. 

His brother followed him with haste. They didn’t linger or dawdle until they were again in the confinements of Thexan’s royal chambers. He slammed the first into the console at his door, sealing it tight and baring it to all intruders. With a thunders scream, he let his bundled frustration out against his gold plated wall. 

He could sense Arcann approaching before the hand landed on his shoulders. Even if Arcann’s betrayal stung deeper than anything their father could do, Thexan still leaned into the touch, drawing strength and certainty from their connection. But Arcann was still guarded, still walled away from him and not letting him through. He caught Arcann’s wrist in his and pulled his brother close. He buried his nose into Arcann’s neck and inhaled the scent that used to be on him as well. 

Arcann recoiled away from him, retreating and pushing Thexan to arm’s length. 

“Don’t,” Thexan whispered, clinging onto him. “I missed you.”

Arcann hesitated. Before he wore his mask, this would be a moment he licked his lips to buy himself time. Right now, all Thexan could see was that monstrosity designed to intimidate. 

“Take it off,” he commanded, “It’s just us.”

Arcann’s shoulders sagged down. “What’s wrong with you?”

Thexan flinched as if Arcann had punched him in the gut. “What’s wrong with me? You just agreed to an marriage!”

“Father commanded it.”

“You could have refused!”

“Could I?” 

“Well….” Thexan tried, but sighed. “He wouldn’t force you. This is marriage, not a game!”

Arcann must have made some kind of snort, but it was muffled by his mask. Shaking his head, he headed deeper into the study. “Forgive me if I don’t share your confidence. He would have me killed when I no longer served a purpose. Thexan, I committed treason. This is the only way for me to atone.”

He caught up with Arcann in two long stride. Gripping his mismatched shoulders, Thexan shook him. “Stop blaming yourself! His punishment far outweighs your crime. He aims to separate us, and you are letting him!”

“I tried to kill him! The punishment for that is death!” Arcann shook himself free. The one visible eye avoided Thexan’s gaze and closed slowly. “This is the best solution. It is wise of him to… rid himself of a servant he can no longer trust.”

“By Esne’s eyes!” Thexan gasped in exasperation. “We are his sons! We are the heirs to his empire!”

“You are,” Arcann snapped back. “You are his heir! I am just the spare. A burden. I’ve always been a burden on you. Thexan honestly, I could never outshine you. It was always you who kept helping me, ever since we were children. I am not as strong as you are. I’m not perfect.”

The way Arcann said it drained the rage from Thexan’s heart. He cupped his brother’s face, feeling the warmth of his skin and the cold of his mask at the same time. His thumb traced the outline where metal met flesh and wandered down towards the seal located just behind his ear. With a delicate push, Thexan opened it and pulled it from Arcann’s face. 

It still hurt to look at his scars. His eye was not as bloodshot as the last time Thexan had seen it and he smiled at the blue in it. It was so beautiful it took Thexan’s breath away. Though he himself looked into that color every day in the mirror, he couldn’t help but still claim that Arcann’s eyes were of his favorite color. 

“You are perfect to me,” he whispered, emphasizing his words with a tug at Arcann’s arms. “I love you. And I think you are the most beautiful, most honorable and brave man in the galaxy. You are not a burden, you never were. You are my brother and you give me strength.”

He felt his own cheeks flush at his heartfelt confession. Sometimes, saying these things felt like the most natural thing in the world. Yet other times, he felt like the protagonists in the stories he secretly read when they met their beloved for the first time. He pulled Arcann closer as his brother made no attempt to utter some poetry of his own. As the distance between them grew shorter, Thexan’s lower body twitched, awakening and eagerly welcoming the touch.

His brother must have sensed the rise of his lust for he too licked his lips. Just when they lips were about to meet for the first time in weeks, Arcann snapped out of the trance as if zapped by electricity. He flinched back from Thexan, bringing a meter wide gap between them. Shaking his head with an anguished expression, Arcann turned from him.    
“I can’t,” he breathed heavily, his voice thick and human. “Thexan, we can’t do this.”

“Do what?” 

“This!” He shouted, gesturing between them as if indicating something forbidden. “This has to stop! Thexan, I can’t be with you anymore.”

Thexan flinched in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because….” Arcann barked, but stopped himself immediately by biting on his bottom lip. “Because I’m engaged now.”

Thexan choked on his sudden pain. It was so real he had look down on himself to make sure no one had shot him. Of all the excuses Arcann could throw at him, this was the last one he expected.  Logically, Thexan knew that Arcann was still hurting over his own actions and thus did what he always did by isolating himself. But he wasn’t thinking logically right now. He was too hungry and starved to play Arcann’s self-pity game. He was too angry to accept his brother’s self-loathing. 

In a fit of rage, he charged at Arcann. He caught him in his midsection, around the same height Arcann had cut him. Caught completely by surprise, Arcann could only manage an sharp yelp before Thexan lifted him onto his shoulder. 

“Let me go!” He struggled, but Thexan was too accustomed to carry a man his own size on his shoulder to be bothered by Arcann’s half-hearted attempts. “Thexan, put me down!”

“Stop moving!”

“Put me down, right now!” He emphasized his complaint with even more wiggling, determinate to free himself from Thexan’s grasp. 

Thexan in returned slapped Arcann’s butt loud enough for the sound to echo in their grand chambers. He grinned when Arcann hissed at the pain and felt his manhood grow with anticipation. He kicked the door to his own bedroom open and threw Arcann onto his bed with his brother loudly protesting. He descended on Arcann an instant later, pinning both his arms above his head. 

The way Arcann looked up at him, his eyes dark with lust, yet as unyielding as a man refusing surrender drove more blood down to Thexan’s loins. He pressed his bulging crotch against Arcann smirked when his brother resisted the urge to moan. 

“You’re mine,” he hissed darkly, his voice saturated with the frustration that had been building up inside him for past few weeks. “You do well to remember that.”

“Get off me!” His brother bit back, his chin pushed forward and his teeth baring. 

“Make me!” 

He pushed down on Arcann, his lips seeking Arcann’s ruined ones. His brother turned his head to the side, avoiding his kiss, but Thexan graped his face and bent it towards himself. His kissed Arcann roughly, his tongue pressing past his teeth relentlessly. He let his impatience and temper bleed into his action, giving him strength to overpower his brother with the pure combination of his nature. When Arcann finally relented and opened his mouth, Thexan gasped into the kiss. The moment their tongues touched, he felt spikes of lust rushing through his entire body, making him bristle. He moaned at the sensation, his eyes falling shut involuntarily. 

Arcann used that moment of distraction to shake himself free. He tried to push Thexan away, but his limbs grew weak when Thexan palmed his equally erected member. 

“Dont!” He managed to groan, before moving his loins away from Thexan’s touch. “I don’t want this! Get off me!”

“You are not very convincing, brother.” Thexan smirked, pushing one leg to rub against Arcann’s erection. “You’ll have to do better.”

He almost expected Arcann to take advantage of his cybernetic arm which didn’t need to obey the laws of a human body and grinned when the metal arm remained away from Thexan. He licked into his brother’s mouth again, feeling less resistance this time. Arcann was still struggling against him, but his effort turned from trying to get away to trying to create more friction. 

Thexan reached for Arcann’s pants with frantic fingers, pulling it down without caring about his brother’s whimpered objections. When he took Arcann’s manhood into his hand, his brother’s breath caught in his throat, making him open his mouth wide to gasp for air. Thexan found the image so arousing, he had to choke himself. Catching himself and breathing in and out rhythmically, Thexan stilled his mind and pushed his incoming climax down. He did not want to spend himself outside his brother ever again. 

He licked his lips to moisten them. Just as Arcann begged again for him to stop, Thexan sank down to take him into his mouth. That finally stopped Arcann from pretending he didn’t want this. He had always wanted this, Thexan was sure. He knew Arcann and he knew all the antics his brother demonstrated when he felt cornered. As he sucked and licked, Thexan couldn’t but feel proud to have broken Arcann’s false pride. With his mouth, he let Arcann know just what he was missing whenever he thought giving into Thexan meant surrender. 

“Thexan,” his brother gasped into the ceiling, “Stop!”

Thexan let his teeth scratch over the tender skin of Arcann’s beautiful member. 

“I really don’t want this.”

He licked the tip of Arcann’s manhood, tasting precum on his tongue. 

Arcann’s hands landed on his skull, pushing him back down again. 

“Thexan, please!”

This sounded very much like something Thexan wanted to hear. 

He gave Arcann’s erection a final peck, then crawled back up to press his lips to Arcann’s. When he pulled away, Arcann followed him, his eyes half closed and his mouth wide open. The sight stunned Thexan to silence. They hadn’t been this desperate for each other ever since the beginning of their campaign. Thexan’s eagerness to be inside his brother brought him to rip his own fly open. 

With a grunt, he pushed one arm under Arcann’s limb body and flipped him open. When he dragged Arcann’s pants down, he had to bit his own fist to not come this instant. He wanted to kiss every inch of that skin and lick over every arc of his perfect body. He wanted to listen to Arcann’s every moan and gasp when he worked his tongue inside to open him up. But now was not the time for teasing. He was already so close, he feared he might not even make it that far. 

Arcann twisted his head to look at him. Angled like that, it was almost as if nothing changed and Arcann didn’t bare the scar of a war. For this moment, he looked still 18 years old, young and bold and believing himself invincible. 

“I love you,” Thexan whispered before he wanted to. 

“Fuck me,” Arcann breathed back. 

Thexan again felt as if someone tugged at his inside. “Aivela’s breath! You’ll be the death of me!” He complied with more enthusiasm that he could remember.

When he finally pushed into his brother, Thexan felt as if the world was alright again. Every thought, every burden on his mind, they all vanished when he could bury himself in Arcann. He pulled Arcann back to meet him, his hands firmly grasping Arcann’s hips. Pounding and thrusting, Thexan lost himself in the sensation. Arcann’s warmth seemed to be swallowing him, the heat burning him from the inside. He felt tension build up quickly, too fast for him to control. He wanted to draw this out, give them the opportunity to enjoy this to its full potential, but knew that he could not hold out long. 

Neither could Arcann. He turned his entire face away from Thexan, hiding it inside the bedding to muffle his cries of pleasure. When his body tensed, Thexan groaned. He felt the pull and intensified his onslaught. It was his arms alone that prevented them from collapsing into bed when Arcann’s legs gave out. It was his strength that kept them in place when he finally spread his seeds deep into Arcann. 

Collapsing seemed a good idea now and Thexan let go. He needed a long time to recover from his mind-blowing orgasm and only rolled off Arcann when his brother started to groan again. 

“That was embarrassing,” he managed to gasp, pulling at his own collar to ease his breathing. “I really missed you, that’s all. Was I too rough?”

Arcann didn’t answer, only pushed at him. 

“That good?” Thexan laughed. “For me, too.”

“You’re terrible.”

“You seemed to have enjoyed yourself. Come here,” he pulled Arcann closer to kiss him. But Again, Arcann turned away, making Thexan only kiss his forehead. “What’s wrong?”

Arcann sighed. “We have to stop doing this.”

“Not this again.”

“Thexan, I’m serious!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He tugged himself back in, and then rolled onto his side to face his brother. “No one is going to stop us. If you love me, stop pushing me aside.”

The way Arcann closed his eyes and swallowed could only mean that he was suppressing tears. He too took the time to return his appearance from debauched to somewhat decent. Thexan had no doubt that he would have put his mask back on where it in his reach right now. 

“Thexan, you said it yourself. One day, this will have to end.”

“That day is not today.”

Arcann seemed utterly defeated when he said it. “I’m engaged now.”

“So what?” Thexan shrugged. “Which emperor didn’t have a lover on the side?”

“This is no joking matter! Tomorrow, I will meet my intended and soon after leave Zakuul. Father will see us wed before departure. Thexan… this might be our last time.”

He didn’t need his brother to paint that vivid picture in his mind. He felt the pain of tears crawling up his throat and pushed it down with the pain of his fingernails digging into his palms. “I won’t let her take you away from me. You’re mine!”

“Thexan….”

“Stop!” He snapped, both his hands grasping either side of Arcann’s face. “You belong with me and I with you. No one will tear us apart. No one! I won’t allow it.”

“Father has decreed.”

“I don’t care!” Thexan exclaimed and felt his voice breaking. He couldn't stop the tears from escaping his eyes and wasn’t even ashamed of them. “He’s a fool if he thinks I’ll just let you go. I will never let you go!”

Something in his words seemed to break the dam of Arcann’s tears. They poured out, ran over his face and lost themselves in the furrows of his scars until they finally dripped from his chin. With another anguished wince, Arcann buried his head in Thexan’s chest. Both his hands came up to cling onto Thexan’s shoulder as his entire body trembled. Thexan had never seen his brother cry like that before. This was not the sobs of a man fearing a possible future, this was a man crying because he knew what that future would hold.

Thexan knew all too well how it felt.

“I’m here,” Thexan whispered, planting small kisses on Arcann’s head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.”

“I’m so sorry,” Arcann sobbed. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me! Thexan, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t be with you!”

He had feared this conversation. Ever since that day in the throne room, Thexan knew that something like this would happen. He had tried to ignore it, blinding himself to the truth and hoping that everything would return to normal. But who was he fooling? Arcann was not one to forget, or forgive. He would not let Thexan pretend nothing had changed between them.

“Stop this nonsense.” Thexan urged calmly. “I’m alright. I survived. Everything is fine now.”

“Nothing is!” Arcann insisted. “I struck you down! Thexan, I thought I killed you. I thought I lost your forever.” He untangled himself from Thexan and sat at the edge of the bed to hide his face. “Thexan, if I’m capable of hurting you, what else am I capable of? You should hate me. I almost killed you. Why don’t you hate me?”

“Because you’re an idiot!” Thexan tried to joke but failed to bring any humor into the moment. He slid into a seat beside his brother, a firm hand on his nape. “You were not yourself that day. Father provoked you. Were you in your clear mind, you would never have turned on me. I know that. You know that.”

“What if I hurt you again?”

“You won’t.”

Arcann seemed to crumble more on himself. “I am unworthy of you. You’re the perfect prince and I am the traitor who almost killed you. It’s better if I leave and…. I don’t want to hurt you again. I want you to be safe! To be free of me, of this burden. I’ve always just held you back because I was so jealous of how much better you are. Thexan, you have to let me go to claim your destiny.”

Thexan grunted with frustration. He snorted before he could bring himself to say anything comprehensible and felt like spitting out in disgust. In the end, he went with “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” He stared into Arcann’s blue eyes and had to willing pull himself back from going in for the kiss. “Because the brother I know would never leave me. He would never doubt me or patronize me. He trusts me and he loves me. And he knows that I feel all these things for him and more. So, if you are my brother, you will stop trying to break up with me.”

Arcann’s expression was torn between anguished and touched. He took Thexan’s hand into his and lifted the fingers to press a small kiss onto it. “How could you still want me after all this? I don’t deserve you.”

“Please Arcann, stop with this nonsense! I love you and nothing you do could change that.”

“Thexan, I can see it. Everytime I close my eyes, I see you in my arms, dying. Every night, I see what would happen if I had cut one centimeter deeper. You would be dead. Gone. And I suffer through it, every night. And it felt so real as if it had really happened.”

“But it didn’t!”

“I dream of so much more. There is an entire future without you. I thought I couldn't live when I killed you, but I did. In my dreams, I am Emperor and you are dead. I felt so real.” He buried his face in his hands and sagged down. “And the worst thing is, that after everything, I still want the throne, Thexan. I want it so much, that every night, I dream about killing you. When he named you heir today, I had this fleeting thought. That It should be me. Because I have sacrificed everything, including you, to be worthy of his throne. How could you still trust me now?”

He swallowed hard. He could hear the steel in Arcann’s voice and sense the anger rising in him again. The bliss after their love-making was wearing off, returning Arcann to his former self, the one brother he almost lost on Korriban. He could feel it gathering in Arcann like a thunderstorm growing in size until it threatened to split the sky. 

After a moment, Thexan asked slowly. “Do you want to kill me?”

“No!” Arcann gasped, his eyes wide. “Of course not! I love you, Thexan.”

He tried to grin at that, but failed. “But you still want the throne.”

Arcann frowned, his entire face darkening. “I do.” He hissed. “I know I Shouldn’t. The throne is your birthright. He named you heir. But I want it. I feel he owes me! Do you understand? No matter what transpired, the throne is the only thing I ever wanted. What else must I sacrifice to have what I want?”

“I guess that’ll be me, then.”

Arcann pressed his eyes shut as if in pain. He sucked in a deep breath, then let it go. When Arcann turned back to look at him, Thexan knew that his joke was not funny at all. 

“Forgive me,” he apologized quickly. “You know how sex loosens my tongue. I meant nothing by it.”

“He plant you in my path, knowing that you are the only obstacle I cannot overcome!” Arcann snorted. “It almost seems he wants us to fight for it.”

His greatest fear, his greatest weakness, Thexan thought. Outloud, he said. “I will not fight you. If the throne is what you want, you will have it from me.”

He thought that it would please Arcann, instead his brother appeared more insulted than before. “I don’t want it from you, Thexan! You deserve the power of the Eternal Throne more than anyone. Besides, it hardly matters. I am engaged and banished, remember? He condemns me to a life on that backwater planet, all because I dared to take what is his. And I have no choice but to bow to his will.”

“I won’t let him ship you off,” Thexan vowed. “Neither would Vaylin.”

Arcann snorted. “By the time Vaylin returns from her patrol, I’ll be gone. There’s nothing we can do, Thexan.”

The anger he felt when exiting the throne room returned to grip his heart. Father had made this situation more complicated than Thexan had originally realized. If Arcann wanted to remain here, he would have to strike Thexan down. If he refused to become a kinslayer, he would become father puppet in an empire on the other side of the galaxy. Either way, Arcann would suffer. He would not be able to live with himself had he really taken Thexan’s life. He closed his eyes and remembered the nightmares that continued to plague him. He remembered the scenarios he had conjured in his mind when he understood their father’s intentions. He knew what pain awaited the brother who ascended the throne by sacrificing the other. He had seen it in his dreams and his visions. 

Remembering the vow he had once made, Thexan made another right there and then. 

He would not let Arcann descent into that hell. 

A voice inside him that sounded much like Arcann’s asked.  _ What will you do? _

_ Something dramatic. _ He answered, resolve again overshadowing all the other feelings inside him.  _ After all, a man can have anything, if he is willing to sacrifice. _

  
  


They watched the ship arrive from the observation platform just below the throne room. It was one of the Fury-classed interceptors the sith so favored in their daily travels. Though it lacked the size or opulence of their flagship, Thexan supposed that it was much subtler while on a secret mission to meet with the leader of your enemy. 

Beside him, Arcann tensed. “So, my intended arrives. I wonder if she is one of those unsightly creatures tainted by the dark side or those bloodthirsty red-skinned monsters. I would much resent my future wife to be either.”

“Don’t worry,” Thexan muttered. “I’m working on a plan.”

“What plan?” Arcann hissed, his voice barely rising above a whisper. “What are you going to do?”

“Patience.”

“Tell me!”

“Let’s just see what Darth Nox wants first. Perhaps she’s young and cute.”

Arcann snorted. “I don’t care.” Bending towards him, he said in a conspiratorial voice. “I have young and cute right here.”

“Stop it!” Thexan grinned, pushing his brother with his elbow. “I have to concentrate.”

“What for?”

“I’m going to meet your intended. Do you think you’re the only one prone to jealousy?”

Arcann pressed his lip shut, but couldn't completely banish the flush from his face. “Are you jealous?”

“Furiously.” Thexan admitted. “I’m wishing that she is old and ugly. One of those red sith purebloods with tendrils hanging from her face. And boney fingers, barely strong enough to lift a lightsaber.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating.”

“Perhaps she is one of those aliens.” Thexan went on, a humorous tone in his voice. “Twi’lek? Which color do you like your future wife to be?”

Arcann snorted. “Be serious!”

“I am.” Thexan was proud that his voice didn’t betray the childish prankster he sometimes still managed to be. If disaster was to come, he would at least allow himself a laugh first. “No, it won’t be a Twi’lek. I read that they cannot sire offsprings with humans. Father would choose a fertile bride for you. Perhaps it is an old sith pureblood after all, with wide hips and heavy breasts.”

Arcann caught himself just in time to choke down the sound of disgust. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Would your children be human or purebloods?” Thexan continued, watching his brother shiver from the corner of his eyes. “I suppose she would be overjoyed to land herself a prince who is both young and cute.”

“Thexan, by Izax, if you don’t stop!” 

Thexan chuckled. “Why, brother? I am merely preparing you for your bride. Get your blood boiling.”

“More like my stomach turning.”

“It would be such a shame if you vomited on your bride the first time you met. It would make a very awkward story to tell your grandchildren.”

Arcann punched Thexan playfully in the arm. “Now is not the time for you to practice your jokes. Go join father, I will welcome Darth Nox?”

“Sending me away already?” Thexan smirked. “I didn’t know you longed for privacy that much.”

Arcann shoved him again just before they rounded the corner that merged into the corridor towards the throne room. “Go! Or I swear I’ll kiss her when I see her.”

Thexan wouldn’t even have believed him had Arcann not been grinning. The smile was hidden under his mask, but Thexan still recognized the tension around his one visible eye. He gave Arcann one last wink, then turned towards the center of Zakuulan power. As he approached the throne room, the smile on his face faded. Arcann was right, now was not the time to practice his jokes. The situation was far too political for Thexan to just ‘wing it’ with his natural charm. Darth Nox was hardly one of the knights they commanded, who always bowed to the inborn superiority of his bloodline. If the rumors about her were anything to go by, then this Sith was a formidable foe Thexan needed to eliminate before advancing to the second phase of his plan. 

He breathed in before entering. His father was already waiting for him, again occupying the high seat of their empire’s power. Knights and Paladins rimmed the walkway, each of them alert and proud to be here. Thexan sensed their admiration as he passed them. He wondered briefly if they knew that he had been officially named the heir to the throne already. It didn’t matter he supposed. In their eyes, he had always been the heir-apparent. 

He knelt before Valkorion, then stepped to the left of the podium. Crossing his arms behind his back, Thexan adopted the wide stance of a guardian, again merging into the image of that stoic, yet steadfast prince. 

The time seemed to stretch on forever as he waited for his brother to return. The longer he waited, the more he felt the unease taking root inside him. Despite his previous attempts at teasing his brother, Thexan didn’t lie about his jealousy. He refused to think about what might be happening on the other side of the door, or what she was really like. It was highly improbable for their father to choose a bride who was both old and infertile. 

When the door to the throne room slid open again, Thexan breathed out easier. His gaze quickly drifted to the woman accompanying his brother and this time, Thexan felt all air vaporizing in his lungs. 

Unlike his description, Darth Nox was both young and stunningly beautiful. Dressed in synthweave robes in different shades of gray, the human woman appeared more elegant and graceful than any other of her kind. She walked with the fluidity of water and the subtle dynamic in the ways she moved her slender, but curvaceous body was so mesmerizing, Thexan had to force himself to look away. 

He focused on her face instead as they drew closer. Her skin was fair, but not pale. Her hair was deep black, but not colorless. Styled in fashionable ways, she could have been a model on some of the billboards that decorated the spire. When she was in speaking distance, Thexan noticed that her iris were unnaturally white. The skin around them were painted in a dark shade of violet, making it seem as if her eyes were two bright stars staring out from the void. The striking symmetry of her face fascinated him. He studies her perfect nose and her round lips, and couldn’t but agree that Darth Nox was a rare beauty. Even the three long vertical slave markings on her skin seemed to add to her overall appearance, reminding everyone where she came from and what she had achieved. 

“His glorious majesty,” Arcann announced, kneeling down, “immortal master and protector of Zakuul. Emperor Valkorion.”

“Welcome,” his father replied. 

Darth Nox’s blank face showed no hint of awe or fear. “It is my honor, Emperor Valkorion.” She said, her voice pleasing to the ear. She placed one gloved hand on her chest and bowed slightly, a gesture of respect among the Sith.

Thexan’s mood darkened. She was too beautiful to not rouse his ire. 

Beyond her alluring features, he could sense the seething power just under her skin. It was dark and twisted, as he had expected to be. Furthermore, he could sense her confidence and determination, how they all pooled together to form the dominating presence that surrounded her. As he studied her, he could sense her reach out in the force to study him. Their presence met in the force and for a moment, Thexan almost smiled because he realized that she was his match. 

Valkorion made a gesture for Arcann to step aside, who retook his post on the right side of their father. 

“Darth Nox,” Valkorion started, “of all the members of the dark council, you alone have been chosen to receive my call. You have come all this way to meet me, allow me to express my gratitude. Yet I wonder, what had made you so bold to betray your peers?”

Darth Nox’s smirk made Thexan’s blood freeze. “I was curious,” she sneered. “Why reach out to me so soon after your attack on Korriban? What could an immortal emperor want by offering me a husband?”

No one had ever dared to speak to Valkorion this way. Thexan tensed out of habit, his hand already moving towards his lightsaber. But Valkorion lifted one hand to stop him and his brother. 

“I was right to chose you,” he said, slowly descending from the throne. “I sensed your power from across the galaxy, knowing that you alone deserve what I could offer. Look around you, Zakuul is the greatest civilization in the galaxy, and soon, it will be its center. When the Sith Empire and Zakuul wage war against each other, I believe you know who will triumph. But you do not have to stand against me. I am offering you the chance to be a part of all this and share my power.”

“Share?” Nox lifted one of her thin eyebrows. “If there is one thing I learned about powerful men, then it is that they do not share.”

Valkorion chuckled darkly. “You leave your mark wherever you act, dark lord. Just as I do. Yet of all the enemies you have vanquished, one still remain. Mortality. Kneel before me and accept my gracious offer. You will rise more powerful than you can imagine.”

“Interesting,” Nox mused. A sinister smile appeared on her face before she lifted her chin. “What if I don’t?”

“Then you will not leave Zakuul.”

A high pitched laugh escaped Nox’s throat. “So I am your prisoner? A kidnaped bride for the prince? How quaint.”

“Do not turn to pettiness, you are far above that.” Valkorion lectured. “When you kneel, I will allow you to return to the Empire. With my son at your side, you will conquer it in my name. It is your destiny to be the Empress of the Sith. None of the Dark Lords will stand in your way. All you need to do, is kneel.” 

For a moment, it appeared Nox was contemplating her choices. Thexan sensed her focus shift between her lightsaber and the spot her knees should touch and tensed. Purely out of sympathy, he nudged her to comply. Unlike her, he knew his father’s power. Should he decide that she was not worth the trouble, she would die right here. 

Again, Nox’s signature responded to his touch. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, their expression unreadable. It might have been the light, the reflection from one of the ships of the eternal fleet outside the globe, but he thought he saw a glint in there. Nox gathered herself and a smirked graced her rosy lips. She inclined her head, then bent down to kneel before the immortal Emperor. 

“I recognize your superiority, Emperor,” she said. “I vow to marry your son and conquer the Sith Empire in your name. Teach me the ways of immortality and I will be yours, Master.”

Valkorion smiled and extended a hand. 

Thexan cursed mentally. He knew Darth Nox would bring trouble, and he hated it when he was right.

 

Thexan felt an headache coming as he paced in front of the door. Ever since the audience, he hadn’t stopped thinking, calculating the risks and the costs of every move everyone made. It was tiring and exhausting, draining his energy faster than a war could. For an entire afternoon, he had felt like an errand boy, running cross the spire to place his influence. He would have taken Arcann aside to make sure his brother didn’t do anything stupid, but that chance was denied to him for Arcann had been in Nox’s company ever since they left the throne room. 

Now, night has fallen over Zakuul and Arcann had finally retreated back to his chambers. He had sent Thexan a short message about his time with Nox, only a few lines to summarize his experience with their father’s newest toy. That he had called Nox “fascinating” “Intriguing” and “surprisingly pleasant” did nothing to quell his jealousy. If anything, it pushed Thexan further, making him want to abandon his schemes and simply kill that woman. 

The door slid open just as Thexan was about to knock for a second time, finally granting him entrance to the suite they had prepared for their honoured guest. He stepped over the threshold and looked around. Though he couldn't see the Sith, he could clearly sense her presence. Among her darkness, he sensed also another presence, slightly faded, yet unmistakable familiar. 

As Thexan made his way through the chambers, careful not to touch anything, his focus traced the remnant of Arcann’s signature. He sensed Arcann’s touch on the glowing datacron on Nox’s table, then a small sculpture depicting a meditating sith and realized with surprise that Arcann had even laid his hands on the wine jar. That they had been here, sharing wine and probably engaging in proper courtship angered Thexan, making his breath coming out hot and fast. 

He tried not feel the hurt, telling himself that it was all just speculation. It could simply be that Nox was thirsty and Arcann was trying to be kind. That Arcann had not yet refused the marriage was only his way of self-punishment, not because he didn’t want Thexan. It was Nox Arcann didn’t want, regardless how powerful and beautiful she was.

“Prince Thexan,” Darth Nox’s melodic voice interrupted his investigation. 

Thexan turned to greet her, then immediately averted his gaze. He felt his cheeks color right before her eyes and wished that he had a mask to hide it. Nox smirked when she noticed his discomfort, approached and came to stand before him too close to be appropriate. 

“What’s the matter?” She asked innocently, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Does my appearance bother you?”

“No...” Thexan stammered, forcing himself to look at her. He tried to keep his eyes trained on hers, but found it very distracting with almost all of her skin exposed. “I wasn’t aware you were… not decent.”

“You can look, you know.” She chuckled. She looked down on herself, drawing Thexan’s eyes across her alluring body. The transparent silk and black lace complimented her complexion well. While they technically covered most of her modesty, they left little of her flesh to the imagination. Not to mention that Nox smelled very well, almost as if she had prepared for this encounter. 

Catching himself, Thexan let out a snickering sigh. “You knew I would come.”

“Yes,” she said. “We had a connection in the throne room, one I would much like to deepen.”

“Dark lord?”

“Now that we are… family, we should get to know each other better, don’t you think?” She slithered past him with one of her small hand brushing the front of his chest. The moment her fingers touched him, Thexan felt a surge of something sharp rushing through him, making him bristle. His gaze followed her, involuntarily wandering down her back to rest on her bottom. He had never seen curves like hers before, or that clothes could be more seductive than actual skin. It was fascinating how her ‘robe’ managed to hide and reveal at the same time.

If she sensed his focus, she didn’t object. Thexan didn’t notice that she had poured two glasses of wine for them, until she had turned around to offer him a drink. “Should we toast? To a happy marriage, perhaps?”

Thexan took the glass and emptied it in one stride. He set it down on the table with an clank and returned his eyes to her. “This is the exactly what I’ve come to talk about. You have met my brother. What is your impression of him?”

Nox lifted one curious brow and drank the deep red wine. “Jealous?”

“Furiously so.” Thexan admitted. Even if he tried to conceal it, a Sith of her power would be able to sense it. He might as well tell her and let her interpret it however she liked.

“I feel so popular these days,” she chuckled. “You know, Prince Thexan, it is rare for me to meet someone who does not tremble in my presence. To most of people, I am either a threat or a monster who could end their lives in an instant. I believe you know what it is like? To be received as an equal, with respect and deference, utterly without fear it is exhilarating, don’t you think?

“I know what you mean,” Thexan answered. He just realized that he had been staring at her lips and quickly made himself stop. He cleared his throat before he made more of a fool of himself and took a step closer towards Darth Nox. “I apologize. This is not a social call. I’ve come with a proposition, one that will benefit us both.”

“Now, I’m intrigued.” Nox smirked and licked the wine from her lips. 

“Do not marry my brother,” Thexan demanded, his voice coming out more urgent than he had intended. “Marry me instead.”

Nox’s smirk grew wider, her entire posture changing. She closed the distance between them, pressing her body against his. With her eyes locked on, she whispered, “Persuade me.”

Thexan wrapped one arm around her waist, lifted her up and kissed her. 

 

Thexan didn’t remember ever waking in another bed other than his own or Arcann’s when he was in the Spire. Opening his eyes to see a completely unfamiliar view from the window temporarily disorientated him. He blinked in confusion, then groaned as his headache set in in full force. He was just about to check his own head for an injury as he remembered what happened last night. 

_ Damn that wine,  _ he thought. He had only had one hangover like this before and that was many many years ago. He had just discovered alcohol back then and carelessly drank much more than his adolescent body could handle. Now as a grown man, the embarrassment of not knowing his own limit colored Thexan’s face. He hid it in the crook of his arm, wishing that he didn’t have to face the consequence of his impulsiveness. 

“You’re awake,” the voice of Darth Nox called from the door. 

For an moment, Thexan hoped that she would simply disappear if he refused to answer. But that was a coward’s move. He gathered his courage and hid his feelings behind a mental mask. 

“Good morning,” he muttered, sitting up in the bed. Only now did he realize that he was not dressed. Not wanting more reasons to be laughed at, Thexan resisted the urge to pull the sheet up to his chin. Instead, he took slight comfort in the fact that Nox was again fully covered by her black and gray robes. 

“Uhm...” he stammered, “Did we….?”

Nox snorted at him, rolling her eyes. “What do you think?” She made a gesture with her hand and his discarded black robes landed in his lap. “I took the liberty of informing your father of our decision. He expects you in the throne room.”

“What?” Thexan gasped. He had no time to consider his nudity and jumped out of the bed. He could feel Nox’s eyes on him as he hastily pulled his pants and robes into correct position. “What did you say? What happened?”

“I told him that I do not like broken things,” Nox answered, leaning against the frame casually. “Unless it was me who broke it. ”

“Is this supposed to reassure me?”

“On the contrary,” she replied, her voice sweet, but her tone threatening. “I don’t think he was pleased.”

“If my father is displeased, you would know.” Thexan stated, clicking his belt into place. “What else did he say?”

“Nothing,” Nox shrugged. “Now hurry. As much as I enjoy the sight, your father awaits.”

Thexan did not need to told twice. He pulled his boots on and hurried for the door. Before he reached the front entrance of this royal apartment, he turned around to see Nox eyeing him, her face again blank and unreadable. As he watched her stand in the Zakuulan sun, he thought he could see the girl she was, and not only the dark lord of sith. 

“Do you remember the plan?” He asked one more time and couldn’t completely rid his voice of the tension. 

Nox rolled her eyes, returning to her intimidating presence. “Do not insult my intelligence. I know what is required of me.” 

“Of course not,” he inclined his head. On a moment’s decision, he closed the distance between them took her hands into his. “I appreciate what you’re doing. Thank you.”

The flash of emotion on her face was as fleeting as a trick of light. She withdrew her gloved fingers, hid them away as she crossed her arms again. “Do not take me for gentle maiden, Prince Thexan. There is no goodness in my heart. I simply prefer the promises you made to the terms your father posed. This is all business. Nothing more.”

Knowing that his words would not move her, Thexan nodded. “I would not presume otherwise. Good day, Darth Nox.”

He did not look back again as he left her chambers. As he ran along the endless corridors of the spire, he had to wonder if his choice was a good one. It was for a worthy goal, he was at least convinced of that. He wondered if Arcann would understand why he did it, or if he would resent Thexan for his selfishness. It didn't matter now, he told himself. It was done. 

He had to face his decision and carry any burden that might come with it. 

Valkorion was waiting for him when he arrived. Staring out into the infinite void, his father seemed no different than usual. Thexan was grateful that the audient was a private one, without any knights or paladins to bare witness. He almost ran towards his sire, and knelt quickly, wishing that all this disaster would soon end. 

“You have made a grave mistake,” his father said into the vast emptiness around them. “To think that you of all my children would betray me, how disappointing.”

“I had my reasons, father.” 

“Envy is your brother’s weakness, do not let it become yours. You are different, Thexan. Always my favorite. Stronger than Arcann, firmer than Vaylin. You have the mark to become so much more, yet you let blind compassion weigh your down. Your siblings, they cling to you like parasites to a predator. They have never been worthy of you.”

Thexan’s hand clenched. All the calm and confidence he had felt before turned into anger. The more his father praised him, the more Thexan felt like screaming. He could hear the venom drop from his voice and hated that he understood only now how much of it had seeped through to his siblings. 

“Arcann makes me stronger,” He pressed. “With him at my side, I am invincible.”

Valkorion laughed, his voice booming and echoing in the globe. “Do not be foolish, Thexan. Your brother is a pitiful child. He is a snake who thinks himself a dragon. Your trust is misplaced. When he learns of your treachery, he will try to kill you. Only I can save you now.”

_ I don’t need saving! Not from him! _ Thexan wanted to shout. Outloud he said, “Arcann will not turn against me. Father, please grant my request. I will conquer the Sith Empire in your name, I promise.”

“Your impulse is shortsighted,” Valkorion sneered. “The Sith Empire is not worth conquering, the Republic not worth destroying. Arcann has no more worth to me than to be a figure to remind them of my power. His volatile nature is more suited to dominate those primitives who cannot control themselves. When he fails for the last time, I will have no more use of him.”

“Father?”

“Rid yourself of this burden, Thexan. He has served his purpose.”

Thexan dared not ask. He only stared up at his father, his mouth open and his eyes wide. “What?” he eventually gasped. “What do you mean?”

“With your birth, came a solemn vow,” Valkorion repeated and Thexan immediately recognized it. 

It was the lecture they had learned as children, the one that followed them their entire lives. He knew it by heart now. It was the one mantra he had learned before he could even read, and he had tried to live by it ever since. Back then, he thought that it was his father’s way to push them to be stronger, to cleanse them of false presumption of superiority and instill into their minds that whatever it was they had, it needed to be earned. 

It had been Thexan’s sole code of conduct. 

It had been his faith. 

Today, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

High above him, Valkorion started to pace slowly. “When you were born, I had a vision. I saw Arcann raising his blade against me. I saw you stepping into his way.” Thexan gasped. “It was the reason I commanded him to remain on Zakuul, to prevent the injury I foresaw. Yet he disobeyed me and my vision was fulfilled. The outcome was not what I anticipated. Thexan, you cannot escape your destiny. You brother will turn against you. The tide of fate cannot not be stopped and if you are not prepared, you will drown in it.”

Thexan felt like drowning right now. His head was spinning and his mind was racing. A thousand imageries of their father’s cruelty surfaced from the depth of his memory, reaching up and rousing the waves of his hatred. It all made sense now. He finally understood why their father had always disliked Arcann, why he had always tortured Arcann with silence and disregard. Valkorion had known it all along. He had known that Arcann would be pushed the brink of his endurance and lash out. He had known that Thexan would stop Arcann, and… kill him. 

He felt sick. Revulsion brought bile to his throat. He felt like an animal bred and trained to become a beast. He felt that Arcann had been nothing but a cattle kept for slaughter. Their lives had been lies. They had been puppets in Valkorion’s games. For all their lives, all the pain and anguish they had endured, all the wounds and scars they had suffered, they had all been because Valkorion was curious about which one of them would win. 

He should have known. He should have known that they were never his sons. They were only an extension of his power, of his control. Thexan had known it during the war. He had suspected their father’s intention and disregarded it. He had let his own dreadful premonition rest because he had believed that his love for Arcann and Arcann’s for his were stronger than what their father wanted. He had believed that they were meant to be together. 

It was strange, he thought. After everything, he still believed that. 

Drawing new confidence from his epiphany, Thexan rose his feet. He took the hilt of his lightsaber from his belt and activated it. The hum of his balde calmed him, gave him focus and centered him against the threat he needed to face. 

“I am no longer your toy, father,” Thexan announced, gathering his power to strike. “I am beyond prophecy. I will forge my own destiny, without you!”

With a running leap, Thexan flew towards his father, his body carried by the force. His blade held high, Thexan aimed as his father’s neck. He would cut off the head of the serpent and put an end to his terror. He would free his siblings from the poison of Valkorion’s manipulations and give them the freedom they deserve. 

His hands were steady, his heart firm. He felt no doubt for his defiance and no remorse for his crime. 

Just as Thexan though his blade would struk true, Valkorion laughed and vanished from the throne. Thexan landed with sure footing, spinning around to pinpoint his enemy. On the far side of the walkway, Valkorion merged out of the force. He opened his arms wide, his sinister laughter still hanging in the air. Thexan leapt away from his position as lightning descended from the ceiling, burning the spot he had just occupied. Had the force not warned him of the danger, he would be dead now. 

A second set of lightning chased at him. He saw them coming from his father’s hand and spun around to take cover behind the throne. Raising his lightsaber into the air, Thexan concentrated to wrap it in the force, drawing the deadly bolts away from his body. When the thunderous onslaught ceased, Thexan felt his forearm blister.

His father was more powerful than he thought. Having occupied the throne for centuries, Valkorion was virtually untouchable. He had never had the need to demonstrate his power and much of its depth were hidden from his sons. Thexan didn’t have time to feel proud, that he was probably the first person in many centuries to push Valkorion to engage in battle. That meant Valkorion did not have the same confidence as the last time when one of his sons dared to attack him. 

Abandoning his cover, Thexan approached his father with his blade in front of himself. If he wanted to win his fight, offense was his best defense. When he descended upon Valkorion, his father did not vanish as Thexan thought he would. Instead, he lifted a single hand to stop Thexan, a barrier of pure force energy forming over his palm. He chuckled as if dealing with an annoying insect. 

“Whatever you hope to achieve here, you know deep in your heart, that you cannot succeed. I am the immortal emperor, you cannot kill me.”

“We will put that to a test!” Thexan spat and kept up his barrage. Even the strongest shield would crack eventually. Instead of continuously striking at his hand, Thexan changed strategy. He took advantage of his youthful body and superior mobility, whirling and spinning around his father to attack him from multiple angles. What his father had in force powers, he lacked in agility. What Thexan lacked in depth, he made up with his physical strength. 

“You wish to challenge me, yet you do not know the consequence of your actions.” Valkorion said, slowly being pushed towards the end of the walkway. “Your brother and sister will turn against you when you strike me down. They will not obey you, the traitor and kinslayer!”

“I am what you made me to be!” Thexan shouted, his blows supplemented by his hate. “You have raised me to kill my own blood! Are you proud now?”

“You speak like a child!” Valkorion boomed. 

He made a gesture with his other hand and Thexan was ripped from his feet. Flying through the air, Thexan was slammed against the wall above the entrance, feeling his ribs crack within his chest. He crushed to the floor, panting, a metallic taste filling his mouth. Spitting the blood at Valkorion’s feet, Thexan struggled to get back to his feet. But his couldn't move, couldn't rise. The weight of a thousand tons dragged him down, pushing his face into the polished ground and keeping him there. 

“Realize my power and obey,” his father commanded. 

Thexan would not. “Arcann will avenge me!”

“Your brother will kneel, as he always does.”

“You don’t know him! You never did. If you kill me, he will be your enemy!”

“It is you who failed to see him as who he is.” Valkorion lowered his outstretched arm and air rushed back into Thexan’s lungs. “Your  _ love  _ will not save you. It will be your doom.”

Valkorion laughed mockingly as Thexan’s eyes widened. “Oh I know. I have tolerated your depravity simply because it amuses me. To see you crave each other with base desires only confirms what I have already known. That you are both too weak to resist even the most primal temptation. Jealousy has always driven Arcann, just as false compassion drove you. They will not serve you now.”

Thexan spat more blood to his feet, his eyes burning with angry tears. “I love him!” He hissed, feeling spite and a strange bout of pride. “Arcann loves me! He loves me more than he fears you! He will not obey you!”

With another wave of his hand, Valkorion lifted his prone body from the floor. He kept Thexan kneeling there, utterly defenseless and completely at his mercy. “Observe.”

The door to the throne room slid open without Valkorion commanding it. Arcann barged him, his lightsaber already drawn at the ready. Behind him, Darth Nox followed. She too had activated her blade, a thin line of pale violet that crackled with lightning. The determinations on their faces gave Thexan hope. Their presence alone reignited the flames in him, giving him renewed vigor to struggle against his father’s hold on him. 

Everything was working just as Thexan planned. 

Nox had done what he instructed her to do. She had brough Arcann to his side, the one and only source of all Thexan’s power. He met his brother’s eye when they were in speaking distance. He sensed the confusion in him, the bone deep unease whenever one of them was in danger. He reached out with the force, attaching himself to the bond that had bound them since the day they were born and harnessed its might. 

With Arcann by his side, Thexan was invincible. 

“Look upon this traitor,” Valkorion’s voice enveloped them. “The once mighty prince of Zakuul, now a failed conspirator kneeling before me.”

Arcann’s hand wavered. “Father, what happened?”

“He tried to steal your bride,” the Emperor announced. “He has betrayed your trust by seducing your bride. Merely hours after you left her presence, your brother conspired to usurp your birthright. He has sought to take what I have given you. Now he seeks the throne as well.”

“What?” Arcann gasped, his eye wide. His head snapped down towards Thexan, disbelieve coloring his signature in the force. “Thexan, what is he talking about?”

Thexan opened his mouth to speak, but only a whimper escaped his throat. With Valkorion’s mental grasp so tight around him, Thexan could hardly breathe. He could feel the veins in his neck and forehead bulge under the effort of his struggle, but knew that all his attempts were as fruitless as a child trying to defy a god.  

“Your beloved brother, driven by envy, he seeks all that is yours.” Valkorion continued. “Your bride, your glory and your place in Zakuul. He hides his treachery behind false promises and cloakes his lies with charming smiles. He has come before me to demand the redemption I have offered you. Look upon him, Arcann. See how he has betrayed you.”

Wincing, Arcann crouched down. “Is it true?”

Thexan lowered his eyes in defeat. He could never lie to Arcann, he never had. Despite the reasons for his action, every word Valkorion uttered was true. He felt Arcann recoil away from him in shock, his signature in the force one of utter devastation and heartbreak. He was shaking his head, the breath escaping his mask growing stronger. When realization slowly reached Arcann’s mind, his initial surprised turned into anger. The bite of it hurt more than Thexan’s broken rib. It was a taint on their direct soul, a spot of pure darkness that could never been driven away. 

The sound of a lightsaber being activated ripped his eyes open. He stared up at Arcann, seeing only burning eye and yellow light. There was hate in that eye. The heat of retribution hung in the air, the only acceptable reaction to a broken heart. 

_ No! _ Thexan begged mentally. _ I was only trying to help you! _

“You betrayed me!” Arcann hissed, a direct response to his plea. 

_ You weren’t supposed to know!  _ On second thought, how did Valkorion find out?

Again, Thexan wanted to punch himself. His gaze drifted back towards the woman smirking darkly from behind Arcann, her presence hanging over him like a shroud. She caught his gaze and inclined her head in a mocking salute. 

“Poor little prince,” her sweet voice sang. “You have been betrayed.”

Valkorion’s dark amusement rang out. “Do not underestimate the ambition of a Sith,” he lectured. To Arcann he said. “Strike him down, son. Rid our empire of this failed traitor.”

Arcann grimaces, his brows drawing into his face to shadow his eye. The lightsaber in his hand whirled, coming to a halt in the striking position. Thexan winced. How many had his brother executed with this stance when they led their campaign against the core worlds? How many times had he felt this pride when his brother did what needed to be done to gain their freedom?

“Any last words?” Arcann hissed and Thexan felt the hold on his throat loosen. 

“Arcann...” he choked out, his voice hoarse and broken. Still, the name was sweet on his tongue, still managed to bring peace to his mind. He repeated it again, tears coming to his eyes. He realized that this might be the last time he ever said that name. It would be the last time Arcann ever hear someone speak his name with such tenderness. “Arcann, I love you. I will always love you. Make it quick.”

Instead of the strike that would end his life, Arcann barked. “Is that all you have to say? Don’t I deserve an explanation? Why did you betray me?”

_ Because I love you, _ Thexan thought.  _ I only wanted to give you what you wanted. When I am gone, the throne is yours. When I am dead, you are father’s only heir. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to you have everything you wished for. You are my emperor, you will always be. I would do anything for you, even die for you. Because I love you. Because I love you more than anything else in the galaxy. Because no matter what you’ll do, even if you killed me, I’ll always love you. _

“Do it, Arcann.” Valkorion commanded. “Strike him down and become my heir.”

Arcann still hesitated. 

At the end of the walkway, the door to the throne room opened again. Twenty knights rushed in, their lances ignited and ready. They took up formation on Nox’s either sides, the tips of their speers pointed at Thexan. Among them, Darth Nox grinned triumphantly, her eyes glowing with the same light that filled their fathers. She lifted her chin towards him, as if to say  _ I’ve won _ . She licked her lips seductively, mocking him for his failure last night. 

Every positive feeling he had for her merged into hatred. He fed on it, pushing all his resignation aside. He was betrayed and he would have his revenge. It was her who had brought him down, not Valkorion, not Arcann. Only her. She was the origin of all of this. She was the true enemy he had failed to recognize. 

Had it not been her, Arcann would never have been engaged. Has she not been beautiful, Thexan would not have been seduced into trusting her. He would not have broken his faith with Arcann, he would not have laid the fate of this entire empire into the hands of a woman he barely knew. It was her allure and her mystery. It had been her treachery that had drove this chasm between him and Arcann. 

She smirked at him… and winked.

“Strike him down!” Valkorion commanded again and Arcann lifted his blade higher.

_ Not like this! _

“Father!” He shouted, a sudden idea coming to his mind. “Father, let me stand and fight for my life! You said it was my destiny, let me prove it!”

He could sense the fear that gripped Arcann’s heart and the amusement that colored Valkorion. With a wave of his hand, Thexan felt the mental shackles loosen around him. He pummeled down to the floor, his limbs still sore and numb from the torture. He gathered himself quickly, stood and pulled the fallen lightsaber back to his hand. Loosening his stiff joints, he activated it, raising it to a stance that mirrored Arcann’s. 

For once, he couldn’t read his brother’s face. Was it anger, or was it hurt? Or was it all of those and more?

“You will kill me?” Arcann’s voice came out weak, trembling. “After betraying me, you want to kill me?”

“I will do what is necessary to be free,” Thexan replied. In the force, he whispered.  _ Trust me. _

Arcann’s blade met his in the air, splitting the tranquility of the globe with thunderous force. Around him, everything merged into a blur of motion as he focused himself on nothing but the combat, nothing but Arcann. He sensed his brother’s attack more than he saw it. He ripped his arms up to parry it, then sank low to protect his body. Arcann grimaced as he advanced, pouring all his hurt into his frantic advance. 

The fury that Thexan had never shared, the rage and anger that smoldered under Arcann’s surface bleed out of him, enhancing his strength and speed. Thexan struggled to keep up. Adrenaline flooded his system, numbing out the pain of his broken rib and pounding headache. He met Arcann slash for slash, strike after strike, their motions flowing around each other, merging into a deadly dance.

They lept around each other, whirled and spun. They kicked and struck, gestured and reached. Their blades, identical like they once were sought each other, meeting again and again with bursts of light between them. He could hear them sing each time they connected, and he could hear them cry out when they parted. There was a rhythm to everything they did, even when they fought. 

“Arcann,” he whispered under his breath as he parried Arcann’s strike again. Though his voice was inaudible under the flurry of whirling lightsabers and crackling lightning, he had no doubt that Arcann could hear him. “Listen to me. Trust me. Follow my lead.”

“You betrayed me!” His brother roared with frenzy, lifting his blade in a two handed grip. 

“I would never betray you,” Thexan replied, bending down to dodge the slash. He whirled back up, his own blade aimed at Arcann’s low guard. “I did it to stop father. Help me! I cannot defeat him alone.”

“I don’t believe you!”

Their blades met in a deadlock, each of them staring into the eyes of the other. It was both sensual and dangerous the way the burning plasma rested only centimeters away from their faces. 

“Arcann, you have to strike me down,” Thexan hissed. “Stop holding back. If you don’t kill me, he will. Unless we kill him together, one of us will die today.”

Arcann growled as he pushed harder against Thexan. “You’re lying!”

“I have never lied to you!” Thexan defended. “Trust me, brother! I love you!”

Arcann let out a frustrated cry as he pushed Thexan away from himself. Again they faced each other, their stance mirroring each other. They rounded each other, two predators evaluating their own chances. There was a universal truth between them, that Thexan was the stronger one. Arcann had never defeated him before, and Thexan had the natural confidence that he wouldn’t today. It was not so much arrogance as the simple and profound believe that Arcann would never hurt him. 

He let his own understanding touch his brother, his mental touch reaching out to caress Arcann’s turmoulous self. As he stared into Arcann’s eyes, the world seemed to stop. He opened himself up for his brother, sharing every secret and every dark thought he had hidden away in himself. He let Arcann be part of who he was, let Arcann feel his unshakable faith that they belonged together. He basked Arcann in the light of his own heart, covered Arcann in all the nuances of his love and devotion. 

It was like before, when they were younger and purer. It was like before the war when they still flowed in tandem. As Arcann reluctantly accepted the bond, Thexan gasped out. The gaps and cracks in his soul closed, completed and made whole by Arcann’s touch. He felt the lines between them merge, disappear until to was hard to say who was who. 

Opening his eyes, Thexan knew that they were one again. 

What had felt like an eternity in the force lasted no longer than a few seconds in reality. Around them, chaos reigned. Lightning cracked down from from the sky, blaster bolts zipped passed them as manic laughter sounded through the air. Darth Nox, engulfed in mystic light of deep violet roared with ecstasy, conjured crackling lightning from her fingers that ripped the twenty knights to shreds. She whirled around, lifting both her hands with a screeching shriek as lightning shot out towards Valkorion. They hit their mark with the sound of splitting planets, its power shaking the entire spire. 

The small woman Thexan had seen in her this morning transformed into a monster right before his eyes, her entire feature obscured by the manifestation of the dark side. Behind her mask of beauty and elegance, he saw the shrivered creature she really was. Her eyes, once airly white were now deep orange and bloodshot. Her skin, fair before, now unnaturally colorless and dottered with marks of corruption. But her power, growing tenfold from what he had sensed in her dominated the throne room, bringing darkness over everyone and everything.

Valkorion laughed, his voice filled with malice and greed. Thexan felt his presence press on his consciousness and winced. He could vaguely make out words in the air, but couldn't understand them. He reached out for Arcann, found his mechanical hand and held on. As they both grunted with the continued barrage of unending force power, their lightsabers extinguished, allowing them to shield themselves with hands raised over their heads. 

A sharp cry cut through the air, followed by a body that crushed to their feet. Darth Nox, again human and beautiful scuttered to her feet, shook her head and snorted. 

“I wouldn't object to some help.” She said, whirling her pale lightsaber in her hand. “Together, we can take him.”

Arcann and Thexan exchanged one look, saw into each other’s heart and charged at one. This was what should have happened weeks ago. When they returned from the core worlds, Thexan should never have stopped Arcann. He should have jumped with him. He should have realized then that his brother’s instincts were right and that Valkorion was the final step in their climb to freedom. 

Now, they would do what they were destined to do.    
They would slay a monster. 

They struck at the same time, their blades aiming at each side of Valkorion’s neck. The immortal emperor had just enough time to lift both his hands to protect himself, when both sons dropped to their low stand, slashing at his feet. They met air, just as Thexan expected they would. Drawn by the force, they both followed their father’s signature until they were right where Valkorion merged out of diding, only to be confronted by the relentless attacks of two young gods. He parried yet again, this time sinking down with the pure overwhelming strength of their bodies. He slid across the floor, carried by the force to flank them. Pushing one hand forward, Arcann and Thexan were both pushed from their feet. But the power behind his blow was miniscule, barely enough to bring more than a few meters between them. 

Frowning in anger, Valkorion tried again. Just as he lifted his hand to strike at them, he tumbled forwards, the sparks of lightning dying in his head. Before he could rise and the twins could act, bursts of lightning slammed into him, again and again until even Thexan winced. From all directed, lightning struck. They rained down from the sky, rose up from the floor, reached and snapped at Valkorion from left and right. A woman’s screams mixed into the storm, a cry of absolute fury that brought Valkrution to his knees. 

Arcann and Thexan reacted as one. They charged at their father, both their sabers firm in a two handed grip. It pierced through Valkorion’s armor as easily as it once parted Jedi and Sith. They burned through his flesh and bones, exiting on the other side. 

Valkorion opened his mouth to gasp, but no sound escaped. In his mind, Thexan heard, “She will betray you.”

Nox zapped him with renewed lightning. “Yes, Master,” she agreed, apparently having heard the words as well. “Treachery, is the way of the Sith. It is time for you to die, Vitiate!”

Thexan lifted his own hand, gathering his own power in his palm. Next to him, Arcann’s power echoed his own. Without remorse, without hesitation, he slammed his hand down towards his father’s forehead, sensing the golden energy in his palm eating away at Valkorion’s mind. Arcann’s hand joined his, his power merging through Thexan towards their father. From further away, Nox’s lighting wrapped around Valkorion, finally drawing a painful scream from his throat. 

Valkorion gasped and cried out. He roared with such power the entire Spire began to tremble. Thexan felt Arcann’s hand on his body, pulling him away from their dying father. Energy began to seethe around them. They flowed towards Valkorion, whirling into a pool inside their father. Thexan could sense his father’s grip on life, how he clung onto (im)mortality with desperation. 

_ No _ , he decided. He would not let false compassion weighing him down. He would not give Valkorion another chance to hurt those he loved.

He swung his lightsaber, tossing it and catching it with a reversed grip. With a running leap and a body whirl, Thexan flung his lightsaber at his father. As his lightsaber cut through the air, Thexan controlled its trajectory and velocity with his own mastery of the force, directing it to seek out his father’s throat. He could feel Valkorion trying to manipulate it and easily overpowered the old man. With a final push of his determination, he pierced through the force barrier his father had conjured and felt rather than heard the satisfying sound as his blade cut through flesh. 

The eruption in the force ripped him from his feet. He crashed into his brother and together they flew past the shattered bodies of the twenty knights and slammed into the door. Thexan tried to hold on, but the rib in his chest protested and his mouth filled with blood. He made one more attempt to rise, felt his limbs grow heavy and lost consciousness. 

 

When he came to, the throne room was as silent as interstellar void. He could smell fire close by and smell burnt flesh and singed fabric. He registered the pain in his body, his ribs, his arm and his pounding head. He might have broken another rib. Next to him, Arcann started to groan, and then cursed. He pushed himself up with his mechanical arm and shook himself out of his daze. His eyes wandered over Thexan’s body, and the way they softened told Thexan that he didn’t look half as bad as he felt. 

“Are you hurt?” Thexan heard himself ask. 

Arcann shook his head. His eyes widened, came up to stare at Thexan, then immediately snapped to where Valkorion’s body laid. “We killed him,” he panted. “We killed father.”

Thexan pulled himself up, then extended one hand to help Arcann. “He deserved it.”

“Thexan, we killed the immortal emperor!” Arcann hissed, his tone trembling and full of disbelief. 

Thexan nodded. “Yeah, we did.” He couldn’t believe it either. 

One day ago, killing father hadn’t seem possible. Two days ago, it had not even entered his mind. But today, he was truly a kinslayer. He had expected remorse or other feelings of guilt to crush down on him, but they never came. Instead, there was a sense of freedom and liberty had never felt before. 

Arcann’s hand found his. He pulled Thexan close to look at him, a sense of deep worry falling over him. “He is dead. The immortal emperor is dead. What should be do now?”

Before Thexan could say “It’ll be fine.” Darth Nox’s voice echoed from the other side of their father’s body. “The Emperor is dead,” she proclaimed. She placed one hand on her chest and bowed. “Long live the Emperor.”

Thexan had almost forgotten that she was there. He felt Arcann’s hand tighten around his and a wave of anger rushing out from his brother. He was warned only millisecond before Arcann made his move, charging at Darth Nox with his blade ignited. Thexan tried to stop him, but the pain in his ribs made him wince and pull back. 

Darth Nox wasn’t even bothered by Arcann’s outburst. She pushed out with one hand and the force catapulted Arcann back to where he had started. As if nothing happened, the Sith strode towards them, stepping over Valkorion’s body without so much as a flinch in her features. Thexan had to hand it to her, no matter what she was doing, she could do it with impressive nonchalance.

“Prince Thexan,” she said, when she was at arm’s length. “I did what was required of me. I trust you will keep your promises.”

“I intend to honor it,” he replied. “But why? Why pretend to betray me first?”

Nox smirked up at him. “You played me. You tried to court me although your heart already belongs to someone else. I don’t like being used.”

“So that was your retribution?” Thexan gapped. “I could have died.”

She shrugged. “So? I had nothing to lose.” 

“You witch!” Arcann spat, stepping up to stand between them. “Step away from my brother!”

Arcann’s balant display of jealousy seemed to amused her. She chuckled. “Don’t be so possessive, Prince Arcann. Learn to share.”

Thexan’s face darkened with a blush. He had hoped that Nox wouldn't point it out. “You told my father of us. You said we….” 

Nox laughed out loud at his embarrassment, again moving past him seductively. “I lied.”

Arcann choked next to him. “So you didn’t seduce my brother?”

Nox twisted around to face him, “It was rather the other way around. Prince Thexan approached me, asking for my hand no less.” 

It was as if a thought crossed her mind and she drew back to push herself into Thexan’s personal space, ignoring arcann’s protest. She took Thexan’s face into her hand and pulled it down to meet her lips. Just before they touched, she whispered. “Next time you try to seduce a woman, make sure you know what to do first. You are lucky I found your innocence most entertaining.”

Remembering the mortifying ways Thexan had triped over himself in his attempt to ‘persuade’ her, he shivered. He didn’t think he had ever been mortified when he didn’t know where to put his hands and Nox eventually pulled back from the kiss with the words “You’ve never been with a woman before, have you?” Thexan might have shaken his head to confirm her, he might have shaken it in fear. He even he knew.

He shook himself out of the embarrassing memory when Darth Nox let go of his face. He drew himself back to this dignified statue and addressed her with his voice forced calm. “Thank you for your understand. I will honor our agreement.”

“Then there is no more reason for me to remain. I aided you in killing your emperor, I doubt the knights of Zakuul would be very kind to me once they find out. It is better I return to my empire right now.” She turned from them, then hesitated. “A word of warning, Prince Thexan. If you want it or not, war will come to Zakuul. There are those among the Sith who still seek vengeance for the destruction of Korriban. Remember: Treachery is the way of the dark side. Do not underestimate the ambition of the Sith again.”

“I won’t.” She had almost reached the door when Thexann called after her again. “Darth Nox, why did you really forsake immortality to help me? It was not only because you enjoyed my company.”

He could see the tension in her shoulder. There was a strain in her features when she turned. In the light, the three vertical brandings on her face seemed more prominent than ever. “I will never be a slave again.”

They both watched in silence how her Interceptor detached from the docking tube, grew smaller in the distance then jumped into hyperspace. Thexan signed out, a long breath he seemed to have been holding for days now. He collapsed against Arcann, putting his weight against his brother and letting his head fall against Arcann’s shoulder. He just want to close his eyes and sleep for a whole day. 

He was almost falling asleep when he felt Arcann shoke him. “Hey, we’re not done yet!”

“What?”

Arcann was glaring at him, his one visible eye pinning him down. From the tension in his cheek and on his nose, Thexan guessed that Arcann was conducting some very aggressive pouting. 

“Are you still mad at me?” He asked. He thought he had made up for everything. 

“Still?” His brother hissed. “I haven’t even begun yet!”

He swallowed hard. “I really didn’t mean it! It was just one kiss, nothing more. I swear. Nox saw through me right away and we only talked. She… she gave me wine and I drank a bit too much. Then I fell asleep and I think she slept on the couch. So, not even in the same bed. I swear to you, nothing happened! Nothing!”

Arcann was still glaring and Thexan felt swear prickling on his back. “I don’t really want to marry her. But you wanted the throne and I didn’t want father to punish you… so… I thought if I married her, you’d be the heir. I realize now, it was a stupid idea, I was stupid. But father refused either way and I couldn’t let him send you off. I should just have killed him myself. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Apparently, Arcann was still angry. “Oh, come on! What else should I say? I’m… I’m running out of things to apologize for!”

Arcann lowered his head and opened the seal of his mask. He ripped it off his face and tossed it over his shoulder. When he looked back at Thexan, he saw that Arcann was indeed aggressively pouting at him. 

“Sorry?” He tried again. “I’ll bottom for a month?”

Arcann’s lips trembled. 

“Two months?”

Arcann’s metal hand shot up to grasp the front of his robes and Thexan almost yelped when he was being pulled forward, towards Arcann, towards his lips. The thought was so familiar Thexan fell into it. He closed his eyes and cherished the way Arcann’s kissed him. He took Arcann into his arms, his hands wandering over Arcann’s body. When their mouths opened to welcome each other, Thexan thought he was ready to lose himself in Arcann again. 

“I love you,” Arcann breathed when they parted. “I love you! Don’t you ever doubt that there’s something else I want more than I want you.”

“But, the throne.”

“Is meaningless if I can’t share it with you,” Arcann whispered. 

“But you said it is the only thing you’ve ever wanted!”

“Only because it is self-evident that I love you more than anything else!” Arcann leaned in and placed a long kiss onto Thexan’s lips. “Who’s the idiot now?”

Thexan thought he must look very stupid right now, with one half of his face tilted up in a stunned smile and the other half trying not to cry because Arcann finally managed to say something sappy to him. “Well… you did think that I’d be better off without you. So technically, you started it.”

Arcann pressed his lips tight together, trying not to smirk. They stared at each other, having an entire conversation without a word. They let the events of the past few days sink in and laughed at each other’s mistakes and stupidity. Eventually, Thexan’s eyes landed on Arcann’s lips and he thought how wonderful they would look if they were on his….

“Shut up!” Arcann barked.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“Just shut up and kiss me!” Arcann pulled him in and Thexan followed all to happily.

Simply because he couldn’t resist, Thexan whispered, “Long live the Emperor!” before pressing his lips to Arcann’s to muffled any kind of protest. 

In the end, they both got what they really wanted. 

 

-End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it.  
> There was one theme asked of me and one scene that was requested. Can you guess? 
> 
> Kudos and comments to support this ship! XD


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